


He managed. And life went on.

by EmilyisaBadger



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Depression, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 20:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilyisaBadger/pseuds/EmilyisaBadger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been about three months since the incident with Jennifer Blake and everything had gotten back to normal… Well <i>their<i></i></i> normal. Scott had learned to control the shift, Allison had dealt with whatever was going on in her head, and Stiles… Well Stiles dealt with his issues however he could. He managed.<br/>But no one was crazy.<br/>No one but Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He managed. And life went on.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick warning: This fic talks about Stiles cutting, just so you're aware if you find that triggering.

He sighed in relief as the blade sliced his skin. He felt the sharp sting and knew, this was real, he wasn’t stuck in some dream. He glanced at the papers on his desk, he could read again.  
Stiles pulled a tissue from the box on his desk and dabbed at the fresh cut on his thigh. He started working on his homework, keeping pressure on his leg with one hand while turning the pages of his textbook with the other.  
An hour later he heard the front door open.  
“Stiles?” Shit, it was Scott. He hurriedly threw the blood stained tissue in the trash and made sure his boxers were covering the cuts and scars on his upper thigh as Scott walked in, the smile instantly dropping from his face.  
“Dude, why does your room smell like blood?”  
“Oh, I had a nosebleed earlier, no big deal. Why are you here?” Stiles said quickly changing the subject.  
Scott nodded, accepting Stiles’ excuse happily.  
“Derek sent me to pick up the research you’ve been doing on the Omega.” Stiles muttered something about Derek having to legs and how he was perfectly capable of coming to get it himself as he collected a folder from his desk. Scott hung out for another hour or so before heading out to bring the file to Derek.

~~~

It had been about three months since the incident with Jennifer Blake and everything had gotten back to normal… Well _their ___normal. Scott had learned to control the shift, Allison had dealt with whatever was going on in her head, and Stiles… Well Stiles dealt with his issues however he could. He managed. And life went on.  
Scott got over Allison and met Kira. Allison and Isaac had a bit of a thing going on that neither would acknowledge. They returned to being normal teenagers with normal problems, and also supernatural problems and threats. Because really, let’s face it, they weren’t all that normal.  
But no one was crazy.  
No one but Stiles.  
So he didn’t talk about it. He kept what was in his head in his head. He became able to tell reality from dream without needing to cut, but he continued cutting anyway. He liked to cut. He knew it was fucked up, which is why he hid it. No one would get it. Not his dad. Not Scott. No one.  
But he liked it.  
He liked how it calmed him. How it made him feel real. How it reminded him he was a living person, even if he couldn’t feel much of anything at all. It grounded him.  
The only problem was, when you run with werewolves, it gets really hard to hide the scent of blood. Damn them and their supernatural sense of smell. But whatever. It didn’t take him long to find out that rubbing alcohol covered the scent completely. The pack hated it, he could tell. The alcohol bothered their noses. But they didn’t question it, and they couldn’t smell the blood, so it worked.  
Or at least it would have if stupid Derek and his stupid fucking face knew how to use the damned door.  
Seriously!  
It was after a particularly bad day and his dad was working the night shift, so he was home alone. If he was a normal teenager this would be the time to go on his computer, watch some porn and get off…  
But Stiles wasn’t a normal teenager, so instead he pulled out the box from his side table that held a blade from a box cutter he swiped from downstairs when he knew his dad wouldn’t notice, and a small bottle of rubbing alcohol. Pushing up the leg of his boxers, he cut.  
Three harsh lines on his pale, scarred skin.  
He watched as the blood welled up, loving the sight. He dabbed the blood away with a tissue, and watched the blood appear again. He felt better than he had all day…  
That was until he caught a glimpse of a reflection on his computer screen.  
“Shit.” He said, whipping around and pulling down the leg of his boxers to hide the cuts, knowing that it really was pointless. He had been found out. And by Derek of all people.  
“Stiles…” he trailed off hesitantly, awkwardly standing in front of the window.  
“Jesus fucking Christ Derek!” Stiles shouted, lashing out. “Learn how to use a fucking door! Even Scott does, and we’re like brothers!”  
“So he knows about this?” Derek questioned, raising his eyebrows.  
“…No.” Stiles looked down at his hands.  
“How long?”  
“A few months.”  
“This needs to stop.” Derek said firmly, eyes flashing red.  
“Don’t go trying to use you big, bad Alpha powers on me. I’m not your pack and it’s none of your business!” They both remained silent for a few moments.  
“I can’t, okay.” Stiles said quietly, “I just… I can’t.”  
“Do you want to?”  
“…I don’t know… I know I should… and I should want to… but I don’t know…”  
“Okay.” Derek paused. “…You’re wrong though.”  
“What?”  
“You may be human, but you’re still pack.”


End file.
